


To Change

by 2peach22



Category: RWBY
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 10:46:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13122144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2peach22/pseuds/2peach22
Summary: Ozpin's a gay librarian who has never had a date in his entire life.





	To Change

Given that no two individuals ever require the same text, the Reference Desk always proves interesting for Ozpin. Perhaps his favorite library patron is the natural redhead with the high heels and higher expectations, always bustling about, always crying out "I'm sorry!" as she bumps into persons, chairs, bookcases on her pre-med journey. Her soft spot for history makes his heart swell with pride, because no one can enjoy every subject, and a younger Pyrrha Nikos had balked at the mere idea of rote fact memorization. 

 

"I don't find it applicable," she had sighed, "And I'm worried that I never will at this rate." But history was nothing more than an applicable story, and Pyrrha was merely fourteen years old.

 

"You will," he assured her, smile patient, warm. "To understand history, you must watch the subject matter influence the present. Unfortunately, I am not sure you have had enough time yet. Relax and allow history to happen, and I am certain you will begin to care if you so wish."

 

So Pyrrha observes, keeps track of the news--"history in the present," he calls the daily reports. She searches for patterns in papers and people, finds that the world behaves like a well-oiled machine, like a kidney or pancreas, predictable and in-sync.

 

Even human beings are predictable. For example, she notices that Ozpin always adds two sugars and creamers to his coffee, and that his patience for over-excited children seldom extends to grumpy, impatient adults, and that he prefers silent gaps between patrons. In fact, Ozpin seems more consistently reticent than not, and now that Pyrrha is twenty-two and old enough to understand small portions of Ozpin's history, she cannot help but ask:

 

"So... Mister Ozpin--"

 

"Just Ozpin is perfectly fine. But please, continue."

 

"Right," she continues, throat cleared. "Ozpin, I've noticed something quite out of character for you lately!" His face falls, scrunches, and her palm flits up to cover her lips as she snorts, snickers. "I never said that was a bad thing, you know. I only wanted to ask about...!" Her laughter increases in volume until she's bent over in her seat, stifling herself.

 

"About?" Now his brows raise and he sits up, back straight, fingers steepled as though awaiting this century's ultimate inquiry. "I don't see what could be so entertaining about my behavior." After all, change sometimes slithers in unnoticed, gradual and sly, a rug pulled out beneath unsuspecting feet.

 

"It's... It's the way you've been acting with that man...!" And her grin practically glows as she mirrors his stance, fingers steepled, back straight as giggles wane. "The way you act around Qrow! I've never, ever seen you so...well, happy! It's like..."

 

"Like?" Nose wrinkled, he leans in slightly closer, though not close enough for his coffee mug to spill.

 

"Like magic," she offers, another stray snort bubbling from her chest. "Like you're under some spell! He walks in and suddenly you are absolutely dazed."

 

"I see no evidence to support your claim, Miss Nikos." He straightens himself again, calm yet perplexed. Him, under a daze? Not at work, certainly, not on his watch. Ozpin maintains a certain vigor for quality assistance, and being  _ distracted _ certainly does not meet his criteria. "While you are usually quite perceptive, I simply don't see myself being dazed for any man, or woman, or... thing."

 

"Oh, really?" She raises an amiable brow, grin never on the out.

 

"Really," he responds with a simple shrug, brow mirroring hers.

 

"And is that a challenge, Ozpin?" With a heavy thud, she shrugs her oversized backpack off her shoulders and to the ground, prepares to offer rebuttal. Her assignments can wait if denial's what he's after.

 

"No," he sighs, grips his mug's handle for support as the girl he values as his own daughter puts forth such sass. "But even if it were, I cannot imagine you would win. I do not tend to...like people. Not in that way. And what I have with that man remains nothing more than simple friendship." In over fifty years, Ozpin encountered neither romantic nor sexual desire, and this was fine and did not need to change.

 

Yet one of his dearest friends seems to believe otherwise, and he certainly values her input. She shakes her head, and Ozpin feels her words coming before she speaks. "No. Friends don't do that."

 

"Do what, exactly?"

 

Her lashes flutter wryly. "Well..."

 

\---

 

The debacle began when early one Saturday morning his coworker at the circulation desk dropped the ball. Ozpin did not particularly enjoy circulation, turned his nose up at the thought of endless, mindless barcodes scanned and books reshelved. Repetition had never been his forte, made him antsy rather than accomplished. But in some bizarre sequence of events, coworker after coworker had called in until only two remained: himself and a retired James Ironwood.

 

Needless to say, Ozpin did not get paid enough for his time that day. With endless lines of disgruntled students, teachers, parents and neighborhood children to attend to, his energy reserves ran low merely an hour in. Pyrrha had briefly stopped in to offer coffee and conversation as usual, but he simply had to decline. "I must stay at my post today, I'm afraid." And so the girl had headed upstairs to study alone.

 

Ozpin had approximately ten patrons in the check-out line while James had an older, scruffy man with two bubbly girls, each with bulky teddy bears overflowing in tiny arms. Frankly, he wasn't particularly listening to them babble at all until his coworker grabbed his shoulder in desperation and whispered, "Can you  _ please _ take this, Oz? They won't take no for an answer."

 

An unthinking "Of course," and a heartbeat later, Ozpin switched counters with the man. "What seems to be the issue, sir?"

 

"There's this book," began the dark-haired man, gaze intense, as though the most serious matter in the world rested in the librarian's hands. "We know it's here, but we can't find it. It's Ruby's favorite, and she's been crying about it for hours."

 

Ozpin's attention flickered to his two young girls, one with blonde, curly locks, the other's hair dark and straight. He could tell that the smaller one must be Ruby, not because the name particularly matched. No, he could tell because her eyes are puffy despite her soft laughter, and suddenly this man's exasperation maked perfect sense. "What book?" he asked, attention returned to his task.

 

The patron cleared his throat, brows flat. " _ Happy Harvey's Magical Adventure _ ."

 

Ozpin snorted, and cut him off right there. "That would be a particularly easy find were I currently working the Reference Desk, but unfortunately I must remain at my current post."

 

... And then the younger girl burst into tears, and he drew a particularly exhausted sigh. To be mad the bad guy here wasn't unexpected, of course, but something about the indignant cries of a young child particularly tugged at his chest.

 

So the man hissed, "Come on, Ruby. You too, Yang." But Ozpin could tell his anger wasn't directed at him, or at any particular thing. No, he was simply upset that the child would not stop crying.

 

And so he said, thoroughly guilted, "Wait. Please, come this way."

 

\---

 

"And that proves  _ nothing _ , except that I am far too kind, and that you are far too nosy," Ozpin groans, having taken off his glasses. Restless palms find his face and rub, as though to rouse himself from some unappealing nightmare.

 

"No, that alone wouldn't have proven anything," Pyrrha muses gently, expression gentle, smile easy.

 

"It's the fact that you _ left me _ ," interjects a deeper, less entertained voice.

 

"James, shouldn't you be at your desk?" Thoroughly vexed and disbelieving, Ozpin allows his hands to drop to his lap. The task of waking up rings moot, and somewhere deep down, he supposes he deserves this level of confrontation.

 

"Hello, James!" greets an energetic Pyrrha who receives an awkward smile and slow nod in return.

 

"I just got off my shift and thought I'd drop by, and I'm glad I did." His arms cross as his gaze shifts into a scowl. "She's right, Ozpin. Your behavior is entirely out of line, and I'm as certain of the source as she is."

 

"Doubtful," he retorts simply, with no urge to expand upon his argument.

 

"I wasn't finished," Pyrrha interjects. "You see...!"

 

\---

 

As he trudged upstairs with the assistance of his trusty cane, he tried to pretend that Pyrrha Nikos was not studying directly in his line of sight. And when that failed, he reassured himself that his ditching her was undoubtedly for his job. Strictly for his job, and nothing but his _ job. _

 

At the top of the staircase he asked, "Are you certain that the book isn't simply checked out by someone else?"

 

Perhaps partially for the little girl. And, even more minimally, he supposed he did wish to assuage the older man's anguish. The youngest child he had ever looked after was Pyrrha herself, and by the time he had played babysitter now and then she had been in her teens. Ozpin did not fully comprehend the sheer grit required of full-time child care, but he imagined the job to be a pain far worse than the circulation desk ever would be.

 

"That isn't what the app says," the man reaffirmed, determination burning, hands in fists at his sides while his kids clung to the legs of his pants.

 

And, he supposed, the man was cute. Something in his audacity to challenge James Ironwood for fifteen minutes straight all for the sake of a toddler...something about that was  _ cute _ . Nothing more, nothing less.

 

"Children's books are this way," he announced mostly to himself, only for the man behind him to snort.

 

"Yeah. I know. I've been down this way, and it's not here, alright?" While he did snap slightly, Ozpin had to let it go. Never in his life had he expected a grown man to be so desperately wound up about  _ Happy Harvey _ , but he supposed once again that he did not ever want to empathize with  _ why _ .

 

"I assure you that it will be." Calm and collected, he found the correct mobile shelving unit and began to crank the handle. His arms lacked youth's endurance; the task proved somewhat uncomfortable, bookcases stubborn and briefly stuck, but soon enough shelves creaked, groaned, and rolled away from each other like old cars in traffic. Satisfied with the space created, the librarian slipped inside.

 

And little Ruby had gasped, "Cool! Cool!" before running off with her sister Yang to move a bookcase or two themselves. Somehow, in the stress of the current moment, neither man noticed the two slip away. Like a forgotten wallet always carried, but with far more dire consequences, the children were at the forefront of the man's mind while accidentally achieving afterthought due to stress and misstep.

 

Such stress, in fact, that he found himself repeatedly dozing on his feet. Unexpected yawns overtook his breath, and abruptly fluttered eyelids resulted in thirty second bouts of sleep. "Are you quite alright?" Ozpin had asked after the third time the man lost consciousness.

 

"Nope."

 

"Ah."

 

Brief, awkward silence resulted, which only encouraged more sleep. He imagined the man must not have slept in days, and he could only imagine why. Had the children been so tiring? Had something else come up?

 

"Thanks for helping me out," the patron managed through yet another yawn.

 

Ozpin had begun the quiet, lonely task of mentally reading call numbers. With aching knees and spine, he searched high and low before rapidly determining the need to search high, arms stretched overhead. "Don't thank me for what I am paid to do," he suggested.

 

"You said yourself that this ain't what you're being paid to do today at all." Dry and tired, the tone accused him. Ozpin frowned, caught in his act, but shrugged. He need not answer to the truth. Instead, he'd prefer a subject change.

 

"So," he began again, nonchalant, "Does she always insist on  _ Happy Harvey _ ?"

 

"You have no goddamned idea," the man privately vented, and Ozpin cracked a smile. "It's all she ever wants, and whenever I go to buy the damn book it's outta stock  _ everywhere _ . It's gotta be a conspiracy."

 

"A conspiracy?" The taller man laughed as tired eyes located the precise spot that  _ Happy Harvey _ would be were someone to have properly reshelved the book. Unfortunately, that spot was empty. "To conveniently rid the world of a children's book the moment that you find yourself in need?"

 

"Something like that," the man grumbled, then gestured in frustration to where Ozpin's fingertips met empty air. "Told you it ain't there."

 

"Then it cannot have gone far," he reassured him. "If you are so determined, you are free to help me look."

 

And, for the good part of an hour, he did. Ozpin learned that the man's name was Qrow, and that more than anything else, he loved his nieces, his dog, his sister's husband, and hard liquor.

 

"In that order?" Ozpin pondered loyalty to his sister's husband being barely above loyalty to alcohol and decided that, in-laws being in-laws, that was perfectly acceptable.

 

"Yep," the man said,  _ Happy Harvey _ still nowhere to be found. At this point, his fury had died down into mere acceptance; perhaps  _ Happy Harvey _ would remain in limbo as per the conspiracy in his head, and perhaps that was for the best. He would find Ruby another book, he lied to himself, and she would love it all the same and forget about Harvey completely. She would go to sleep at 8 p.m. instead of being stubborn and doing so at midnight, and she'd eat her vegetables, and Yang would stop trying to fight her over who got to watch what television show, and the world would finally achieve balance.

 

And Hell would freeze over.

 

"Sometimes," Qrow whispered, not even holding hope in his breath, "Taiyang ranks lower than whiskey on my priorities list."

 

"Why is that?" Ozpin's face momentarily lit up at the discovery of a call number far too similar to  _ Happy Harvey _ . Unfortunately, the book's title was  _ Happy Hayden _ , the cover an image of a smiling, bright orange weasel. Ozpin shoved the abomination back into a mass of other children's titles with slightly too much aggression.

 

"Because he left the girls," he says simply, "And hasn't left her yet."

 

From what Ozpin had learned Qrow must mean Raven, Taiyang's wife. "I see," he murmured softly, pulling books with far less vigor now, sadness in his tone. "I apologize, Qrow. Neither you nor they deserve that."

 

"It's fine." Qrow said so, but his expression rung cold and empty for a few beats too long. Then he said, "I'll be a better dad than he ever was."

 

In that moment Ozpin wished he were closer to him, if only to give him a reassuring hug. Instead, he agreed with him. "You will. I assure you."

 

"You don't even know me."

 

"No," he hummed. "But I do know that you have been searching for  _ Happy Howie _ \--"

 

" _ Happy Harvey _ ," Qrow corrected.

 

"...for over an hour, all for your niece's sake. That is an insane amount of dedication, Qrow." At the very least, he thought, a mere hand on the shoulder would not overstep boundaries after such a personal conversation. "I'm sure Ruby and Yang love you very, very much."

 

Qrow allowed him to linger there for a few beats too long before shrugging him off. "Yeah, well..."

 

And then he had frozen in his tracks, suddenly hyper aware of quiet, empty space.

 

"Where the Hell are they?!"

 

\---

 

"There is nothing straight about that," James agrees.

 

"James, please." At this point, he’s paying far more attention to his empty coffee mug than to the imposing man beside him. How could he simply invade  _ his _ side of the desk? His home, his arena, his center of knowledge? "There is absolutely no reason for you to be so up in arms, and even less reason for you to invade my workplace."

 

"Look," James insists, and already Ozpin doesn't want to hear any of it. "We don't want to pressure you."

 

"You certainly want to pressure me," Ozpin corrects.

 

"We want you to be  _ happy _ ." Insists Pyrrha, correcting further. "And if you said yes to his invitation, then who knows what your future may bring?" Careful, cautious hands reach for his across the desk, and he meets her halfway, grip hesitant. His best friend and his pseudo-adopted daughter, both with gazes that mean love, care...and business.

 

Ozpin looks from James... to Pyrrha... back to James... back to Pyrrha...

 

"I... do not know... about any of this." He's nervous. Soft tone, barely audible, lips barely parting for his words. "I have never done...this. You must understand."

 

"Of course we do," James murmurs, places a firm palm on his shoulder, grip caring. "You know we do, Oz."

 

"I have never had a date either," offers Pyrrha. "It's okay! I promise!"

 

But he was afraid to change, so certain of his course. Certain of, and completely okay with, being on his own. Until death.

 

Perhaps with a cat or two. Like always. If the past was any predictor of his future, then his future was set, pattern made.

 

Why should he alter course?

 

\---

 

"Fuck," Qrow cursed again and again. He dashed around the children's section faster than Ozpin's watchful gaze could ever keep up with. Already he had begun hobbling after him, cane in hand, when sickening, anxiety-ridden screams broke the air.

 

Undoubtedly the screams of Qrow's children. Undoubtedly enough to set even Ozpin's old legs into frantic motion as he barely managed to trail behind Qrow. Seven rows over and within the tiniest of cracks, they foung her. Ozpin felt himself relax. Qrow could not manage the same.

 

Little Ruby Rose was trapped in-between two mobile bookcases, and her sister Yang could not stop crying. In vain she tried again and again to crank the rotating lever that would free her sister. "Help! I... I can't...!"

 

Qrow reached her first, pushing her small form away and cranking with all his might. "Damnit! It won't budge!  _ Oz! _ "

 

At his side before he even asked, his hands sprung to action, joining his. "One, two,  _ three _ ." Together, they pulled.

 

\---

 

"I never would have learned to enjoy history without you, Ozpin." Pyrrha’s voice rings clear and sincere, green eyes earnest. "And, more than that... I don't think I ever would have gained a mentor...a  _ friend _ as caring as you are if I hadn't taken that chance."

 

"And you are my friend too," says James, clearing his throat. "I don't normally speak with coworkers on such friendly terms. But if I had never spoken with you, I am doubtful that I would ever have found anyone that could ever compare." Unusually teasing, he mussles up greying hairs, and Ozpin cannot find the strength to be annoyed.

 

"We love you." Somehow, those words prick him almost to tears. Hurst him, but holds him all the same.

 

"I know," he smiles, and James wipes a stray tear that rushes down his cheek. "Of course you do. And I love you both as well."

 

"Then...please?" Pyrrha asks, all puppy dog eyes and hope, ready to cry herself.

 

There's something about crying children that Ozpin cannot bear.

 

\---

 

Qrow collapsed on the ground in the aisle's center, Ruby in his arms, sniffling and sobbing and clinging so tight. He felt stupid, stupid for not noticing, stupid for not sleeping more, stupid for being so tired that he couldn't even keep track. Yang fell against his back, crying too, and he scolded them both something fierce. "Don't you  _ ever _ touch those levers without me ever again, do you hear me?" They nodded. They did hear him.

 

Ozpin hovered uncertainly near the scene, debating action. He decided on coddling the blonde girl, Yang, and she gladly accepted the comfort. "I should have been watching as well, and I am sorry."

 

"I don't pay you to babysit, Oz. Don't give me that." Slowly he rose, youngest girl in both arms. Frazzled and without  _ Happy Harvey _ , he had spectacularly failed his mission.

 

And Ozpin didn’t know why, be it the sniffling girl he held or mere polite nature, but he offered. "You certainly could. But please, don't pay me. I'm technically retired."

 

Qrow tilted his head. "You sure?"

 

\---

 

He was sure.

 

He brought  _ Happy Harvey _ over the first time Qrow required some time away from the kids, paid for in full. Ruby read the book cover-to-cover exactly fourteen times before nodding off to sleep with Yang at precisely 8 o'clock.

 

Qrow thought he was magic.

 

\---

 

Qrow came to visit him at the desk from time to time. At first, if he were busy, Ozpin would shoo him away. Soon enough, that ceased.

 

The fifth time he visited his desk, he bought a bouquet of roses, and Ozpin became so overwhelmed that he said "Excuse me," then half-ran to the restroom. Composure evaded him for approximately fifteen minutes. When finally he exited the restroom, the man had left, flowers included, and a confused James Ironwood sat in his place.

 

His heart sank to his stomach, and he texted him a brief "I'm sorry."

 

There was no reply.

 

\---

 

"What are you afraid of?" asks a slightly insensitive James.

 

"Change." His reply comes, instantly.

 

James and Pyrrha share a look.

 

And then he sighs. "But with time, we all must change."

 

After much deliberation, Ozpin texts Qrow again tonight with a dinner proposition. When there's no answer he shows up unannounced at his door, this time with his own rose bouquet, an impromptu apology. He knocks once... twice... and tiny hands open the door. 

 

"Hi!" Yang squeaks, upbeat as ever. 

 

"Hello." His hushed tone manages an unnerved quality. Naturally he's shocked to see Qrow asleep in a living room armchair while his small blonde niece greets him at an unlocked door. In his lap rests Ruby with her favorite book all nestled against his chest. The dark haired man faintly snores with her, and so Ozpin immediately makes the decision to rummage through the fridge and make dinner with whatever's on hand after deadbolting the damn door.

 

When Qrow awakes, Ruby's on the floor with his roses. Yang and Ozpin are eating together at the table with a simultaneous game of checkers at the center. Yang shouts "Check!" and Ozpin chuckles and allows her to win even if that's not how the game works.

 

"Oz?" 

 

He's not really sure what he's asking. His muscles are tense, on edge as he watches the young toddler at his feet plucking apart luckily-dethorned stems and petals, thankful that she isn't out to consume them.

 

He says "Yes," and that's almost good enough for now. Almost good enough for them. "I came to babysit. That's all."

 

"That's all?" he challenges, wanting a bit more.

 

"No," Ozpin corrects himself, and shoots the man a smile. "I also came to invite you to dinner."

 

And that's enough for the tension in his body to melt, replaced by the dumbest grin he's ever managed in his whole life. "Really."

 

"Really."

 

"That's new," Qrow manages through a loud, crackling laugh, one that has both his kids in stitches from how goofy he sounds.

"Yes," Ozpin replies easily enough. "That is."


End file.
